


Touch Tone Team

by MerFairy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, American Sign Language, Aromantic, Artist Scout, Asexual Character, Background Relationships, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Comic Spoilers, DadSpy, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gay Male Character, Genderfluid Character, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Magic, Mercs for hire, Modern technology, Multi, Mutual Pining, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-canon Names, Nonbinary Character, Pansexual Character, Past Child Abuse, Past Child Neglect, Past Relationship(s), Polyamorous Character, Post-Canon, Queerplatonic Relationships, Red engineer and Red pyro are cousins, References to Depression, Scout knows Spy is his dad, Suicidal Thoughts, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team Fluff, Team as Family, Trans Male Character, Video Game Mechanics, Youtuber scout, artist spy, canon names, implied animal death, not clones, selectively mute pyro, spy's dad's A+ parenting, tf2 comic spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-01-14 15:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerFairy/pseuds/MerFairy
Summary: The mercs are introduced to fusion in the most jarring way possible. Scout and Spy are forcibly fused by a wayward spell cast by none other than Soldier's former roommate, Merasmus. Now they have to figure out who they are, and how to return to back to their normal (separate) selves.Join the team in their adventures in fusion and other post-canon stories.





	1. Divided Unity: Part 1

Merasmus knelt behind the bush, watching his former roommate push an entire refrigerator—undoubtedly filled with sour cream, judging by the many raccoons following him, away from the Teufort base. The RED soldier’s trusty shovel was resting atop the fridge, rattling as he forced the machine across the sandy terrain. Soon the soldier stopped, having made a good distance from base, grabbed his shovel and began digging. Lieutenant bites took his distraction as its cue to scratch against the fridge doors and try to get the sour cream held within it.

Soldier noticed the little rascal’s efforts and scooped the trash panda into his arms, holding it like a baby. “Now soldier, I know you and your family love this stuff, but as Americans, we all must make sacrifices!” He then launched into a long-winded speech about how Alexander Hamilton apparently saved America by becoming president and punching King George’s head so hard that it somehow exploded. Merasmus stared at him in exasperated confusion as the RED Soldier continued spouting nonsense. He knew mortals got history wrong all the time, but COME ON!

He had yet to come up with a plan to get revenge on the man for killing Tom Jones, who unlike Soldier did not steal his heart medication or any other of his belongings, thank you very much.

God, he hated that man, Merasmus had tried forgetting Soldier and all the frustrations that came with him, but noooooooo. Just as he thought he had moved on from all that drama that madman decides to BARGE INTO HIS HOME, AND MURDER HIS ROOMMATE!!!!

God, he wished he could just kill Soldier and his team and be done with it, but with their inability to just stay dead, murder was hardly an effective solution at this point. He had learned that the hard way.

Then an idea struck him. He readied the spell, whispering the magic words. With green energy swirling in his hand and a wicked grin on his face, the wizard sent it hurtling towards the oblivious Soldier---but just as he fired the magic missile, one of the many raccoons that had followed Soldier out into the desert jumped and latched onto the magician’s face, sending the green ball flying past its intended target.

Meanwhile, the resident RED Scout and Spy were outside the base, sitting on a few empty crates left over from the last weapons delivery.

“Sppppyyyyyyyy,” Scout said, leaning on the masked man, “I’m bored.”

“And what do you expect me to do about that?”

“I dunno, Dad, something.”

Spy rolled his eyes and took a drag of his cigarette. “Why don’t you listen to music on your phone then?” he suggested.

Scout thought for a moment, then replied, “Nah.”

“Are you going to reject all my suggestions again?”

“Yeah probably,” Scout confirmed. “I dunno, I’m just in one of those kinda ugh moods where literally nothing sounds interesting, like, at all.”

Spy nodded, Scout had described to him in the past the restless boredom he sometimes felt because of his ADHD. “Ugh” seemed to be the name he used to describe this emotion. He could do without the young man’s irritating habit of informing everyone within earshot that, yes, he was bored out of his mind, and there was nothing anyone could do about it, though. Spy loved his son, but he definitely was not a fan of this annoying habit of his.

Scout tapped out a tune on the boxes they were sitting on. If Spy had to guess, it was probably What’s New Pussycat by Tom Jones.

The smell of cigarette smoke permeated the air as Spy took another drag. The weather was not bad that day, a little cloudy, but not too hot. He could hear Soldier giving a passionate speech to his racoons farther away from base. He couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but it was probably meaningless garbage, so why should he care, anyway?

Scout kicked his legs, examining the way the sand sparkled as the sun shined on it. He let his mind wander to topics he could talk about with Spy, but none of them sounded interesting at the moment, nothing sounded remotely interesting, to be honest. He sighed in irritation at his current lack of inspiration and creativity. The RED Scout looked over at his father, who had already finished his cigarette, which was now lying on the ground next to Spy’s feet. He sighed louder and more dramatically, this time to get the man’s attention.

Spy glanced at him and asked, “What?”

“I’m bored.” he repeated

“I know that.”

“C’mon man, can’t you do something to help?”

Spy considered his options, but before he could answer, he spotted the giant ball of light hurtling towards them only three feet away. “Look out!” he shouted, launching himself in front of the younger man.

The light hit his chest at full force, knocking the spy off his feet and into his shocked son behind him.

The two men were enveloped in light as the magic took hold of them. Their figures melded into a glowing mass, churning and swirling on the sandy ground before shooting up in a blinding beacon towards the sky. Soon the shining silhouette of a man formed and took shape, and the light exploded outward to reveal a new figure somewhere between the height of the two men.

He wore a long-sleeved shirt, the same shade of red that Scout’s t-shirt had been. Over the shirt, he had on a pinstripe vest, similar to Spy’s suit but more simple in design. Tucked into the vest was Spy’s red tie, attached to the chain of Scout’s dog tags. For pants he wore a pair of dark gray dress pants, and for shoes, he had a pair of simple black dress shoes with two white stripes running down the sides of each. The figure also wore a version of the RED spy’s mask ending just below his eyes, with Scout’s hat being replaced with something resembling a beret with a baseball cap brim sitting atop his head.

Immediately upon forming the figure dropped unceremoniously from the sky, as the laws of gravity took control once again.

The newly formed fusion shrieked as he fell through the air and landed with an “Oof” on the sandy ground below. He groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position.

“Are you okay?” he asked. The man’s eyes shot open in surprise at his new voice, sounding like a mix between both Scout and Spy’s respective accents. He looked down at his hands, a pair of black fingerless gloves now covering them, and screamed.

The entire RED team—minus Soldier—rushed out of the base, battle ready, having heard the distinct sound of a magical energy blast far too close to base for comfort. Expecting to see Merasmus, the sight of a strangely familiar man shrieking at his open palms instead greeted them.

“Wha-” Heavy started.

“FUSION’S REAL?!?!?!” The man shrieked in shock and disbelief. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

Engie interrupted the fusion’s panicked questioning, “Now calm down, uh, whoever-you-are, and explain what in Sam Hill happened here.”

He looked up at the familiar faces of his teammates. “I-I don’t know, one minute I was-we were just sitting on these boxes talking and then out of nowhere came this big ball of light and I-Spy---he jumped in front of me; I mean I jumped, uh, no, but actually yes, but, UHG MERDE; SPY JUMPED IN FRONT OF SCOUT, God that was so weird to say, holy fuck! Anyway, so now we’re like this,” he finished, gesturing towards himself.

The rest of the team started, dumbfounded at the man before them. Engie scratched his head, taking a moment to decipher the familiar strangers explanation into something more….coherent.

“So….you’re saying that you are somehow both Scout...and Spy?” He asked, somewhat confused.

“It’s the only explanation we can think of anyway.”

The fusion seemed to have found most of his composure again, distracted by his teammate’s questioning.

“But how can we be sure what you are saying is true,” enquired Medic, suspiciously.

The man before them looked up at the doctor, “Magical bullshit happens to us all the time, Doctor,” he explained, “This is probably because Merasmus is taking his problems with Soldier out on us again like he always does.”

Medic hummed, “That is possible, but just to make sure,” he kneeled down on the ground in front of the man, “I need you to show me your arms.”

The fusion flinched, breaking eye contact briefly, then hesitantly rolled up his sleeves and removed the long gloves obscuring his forearms.  
Old, faded scars from self-inflicted wounds littered his skin. It overlaid scars from both men onto the same body, some more faded than others. The men had been clean of that habit for quite some time, but the sight of their combined scars was jarring to say the least.  
Medic examined the marks, and affirmed to the rest of the team, “Yes, it is them; the scars match.”

The unnamed fusion hastily pulled on his gloves again and rolled the red sleeves back over.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Medic stood and held out a hand, “I think a team meeting is in order, ja?”

He took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Dusting the sand off his pants, he asked, “What about the BLUs and Mr. Hale? Shouldn’t we call them and tell them what happened?”

“I dinnae think anything’s gonna stop ol’ Saxton Hale from baggin’ himself a few chupacabras for his trophy room, mate,” Demo mused. “They’ll probably be back tomorrow, so we’ll tell em’ then.” He gave a reassuring smile, throwing his arm around the masked man’s shoulders.

He was probably right, to be honest, their boss probably wouldn’t even pick up his phone unless it was Bidwell, and it was an emergency, but he was on the trip too. “All right, well what do you suggest we do until then?”

“Ah say we find you a new name.” The Scotsman quirked an eyebrow and smirked, “Unless you’d rather stick with Spout?”

“Mon Dieu, no that is literally the dumbest name in the history of dumb names,” ‘Spout’ said with a groan.

They headed towards the entrance of the base, Demo keeping his arm around the newly formed fusion as they walked. The gesture admittedly comforting to the still disoriented man.

Just then, their missing teammate came rushing towards them, shovel in hand, shouting, “MEN!”, at the top of his lungs. The helmet clad soldier panted as he came to a stop. The RED team turned to look at him as he continued, “Men, Merasmus is back, and he tried to cast a spell on me! But Colonel Scratchy got to him so he missed! Now, I tried to beat the crap with my shovel, but he used his wizard magic to get away!!!!”

Soldier then noticed the new face in the crowd. “Who are you?”

“He’s Scout and Spy, I reckon your former roommate hit them with the spell by mistake,” Engie answered for him. “We’re about to help him figure out a new name, why don’t you come with us and help?”

“Okay!” he responded enthusiastically.

With that settled they all made their ways to the meeting room, Medic took a detour to the med bay to drag over a whiteboard so they could write names. The smell of dry-erase markers was in the air as they wrote suggestions down and erased rejected names as ‘Spout’ chose the finalists.

Engie had his laptop opened to a thesaurus website, “You know, it’s funny how this thing says scout is another word for spy.” He remarked.

“It’s foreshadowing,” the still unnamed fusion replied, casually. That got a little laugh out of the Texan.

There were only three names left on the board: Bandit, Thief, and Informant.

“Okay, so informant sounds cool, but that’s not that’s not really my—I mean, that’s not really Scout’s job, because his role is offense, and also Spy doesn’t really give out information that easily, so that ones out.”

Sniper, who was on whiteboard duty, erased the name.

The half French/half Bostonian man considered the final two options, “Hmmm, I think these are both good because both Scout and Spy steal intel, so both these words work for me in that way. But they also have different feels to them. Thief sounds more formal professional, while Bandit is more cartoony and fun.”

He scratched the back of his head in contemplation. He paced back and forth, humming to himself, his eyebrows knitted together under his mask. The fusion halted abruptly at the board, squinting at the black writing.

“Ok, I think I like Bandit better. Because Thief is too formal for Scout and it just sounds better.” He smiled, satisfied with his choice.

Medic grinned, “Wonderful, and what about your real name?”

Bandit’s smile fell, and he slapped his hand onto his face, “Shit, fuck, ok uhhhh,” He picked up a marker and erased the board with a gloved hand. He wrote ‘Jeremy’ and ‘Renard,’ the scout and spy’s first names, respectively. The newly named fusion exchanged his black marker for a red one. He circled ‘Jer’ and Ren’ then combined them into Jerren below.

He tapped the board with fervor, “There, my real name is Jerren.”

“That was quick,” Sniper commented with eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, well combining names is easy.” He then remembered something he probably should asked have earlier, “Hey guys, did anyone call Miss Pauling and tell her what happened?”  
The room went quiet, it seemed the answer was a resounding ‘No.’

Engie cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’ll do it,” he said.

Turning away to his laptop he set out to do just that. The others took that as their cue to leave and went their separate ways. Bandit followed their lead and also exited the meeting room, wandering to the mess hall. He sat himself down in a chair, leaned on the table and rested his chin on his hand.

Now what?


	2. Divided Unity: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bandit gets used to being a fusion, and makes a decision.

So as it turns out, contemplating one’s sudden existence is not a very fun way to kill time, as Bandit came to find out pretty quickly. He tried to push it out of his mind, tried to shift his focus to something a little less existential. 

He failed.

It was just so weird how only a half-hour ago he was two people and now he was one person. Or maybe he was actually two people sharing one body? He didn’t know which scenario was more true and thinking about it just confused him more. 

He knew that Steven Universe said that a fusion was neither two people nor one person, so he supposed that explanation would have to do for the time being. Scout loves that show, he had gotten the entire base hooked on the series and was very proud of that fact. Even Spy found himself caught up in the plot and characters, though he wouldn’t admit to it being any more than ‘Okay’ out loud.

Before what felt like the Scout side of him could gloat about how he knew Spy loved the show too, Pyro walked into the mess hall with their arms full of art supplies.

They dropped everything onto the table Bandit was sitting at and waved.

‘You want to draw with me?’ they signed.

‘Sure,’ he signed back. ‘Let me get my things first.’

The little firebug gave him a thumbs up, before turning to their paper to draw. 

The fusion quickly debated whether he should go grab Spy or Scout’s supplies. His brain informed him that Spy mostly stuck to paintings, so Scout’s things would probably be more suited to doodling with Pyro.

Bandit grabbed the Copic markers that Spy bought him for his birthday last year, a gift that Scout had been over the moon to receive, grabbed a few other things, and then made his way back to his teammate. 

Pyro’s materials consisted of mainly dollar-store quality items, with some inexpensive but better quality things mixed in. A big box of crayons was open, the more vibrant colors looking more worn down than the rest, especially the pinks. That was Pyro’s favorite. A box of colored pencils was also resting nearby, with sharpener on standby. 

He took a piece of printer paper from the pile, grabbed a regular old lead pencil and started sketching Garnet, since he already had Steven Universe on the brain. 

The arsonist beside Bandit was working hard on their drawing of an orange kitten with fairy wings. Pyro finished coloring the wings and then turned their attention to the tubes of glitter glue, they selected the red and made little hearts surrounding it.  
So cute.

Bandit’s own drawing looked to be a mixture between both his components’ respective art styles. Spy usually stuck to realism and post-impressionism style paintings. Scout, on the other hand, liked more cartoony and comic book esque styles. 

The fusion was pretty happy with the way it was turning out, he was really digging this whole stylized realism look. Pyro seemed to agree, as they looked over at his paper and made a muffled “Ooooooh,” noise.

They continued drawing for about an hour and a half, when Bandit started to feel…...anxious, and restless. 

…….

….He could use a cigarette. 

‒NOPE! Not happening! Scout needs his lungs, he’s a runner, and a human being who needs oxygen to survive! 

Oh boy, this situation was really making his head spin. He knew Spy had been trying to cut back on cigarettes lately, at the doctor’s orders of course. The Spy part of him didn’t want to get his son hooked on nicotine either, it was, quite frankly an annoying habit that cost a lot of money to maintain. Not something he’d like to share with anyone he cares about.

Bandit tried to ignore this conflict and continue drawing, but the mental fog was just too thick. Almost as thick as the smoke from a‒NO he was not doing that! 

Pyro noticed the masked man staring off into space with a perturbed look on his face and knocked on the table to get his attention.

The gray-eyed fusion shifted his gaze to his friend. He noticed their concerned and questioning posture, not needing to see Pyro’s face to know that. 

‘You okay?’ they asked.

Bandit hesitated for a moment, then explained, ‘I think the Spy part of me needs‒or, I mean wants a cigarette, but I don’t really want to mess up Scout’s lungs, and this whole predicament is making us feel….weird.’ 

He really wasn’t sure how to describe how this conflict between his two parts felt, but what he was sure of is that it was not pleasant in the slightest.

The firebug scratched their chin, or at least, the place their chin would be under their mask. They suddenly rose from their chair and grabbed Bandit’s hand, pulling him out of the room and down the hall. 

The duo arrive at the Medbay. Pyro, still holding the dazed fusion’s hand, knocked on the closed double doors. Soon they opened to reveal Medic, without his lab coat or gloves. He quirked an eyebrow at the two and said, “Hello, meine freunde, what seems to be the problem?”

Pyro nudged Bandit forward and motioned for him to explain.

“Well you see doctor, there’s a bit of a conflict between our‒I mean, my two halves.” He shook his head quickly at his slip-up and continued, “To put it simply, Scout doesn’t want to smoke, but Spy kinda…..needs...to?”

Medic nodded, thoughtfully, “I see, why don’t you step into my office and we can sort this out together.” He motioned for Bandit to enter, and turned his attention towards his fire-loving teammate and smiled, “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Pyro, you can go now.”

They gave the doctor a thumbs up, before cheerfully skipping down the hallway.  
Bandit followed Medic through the medbay doors. The room was spattered with dried blood, most prominent around the operating table. Despite this, the smell of antiseptic hung in the air. The doctor kept the important things sterile, at the very least.

They passed Medic’s doves on their perch next to their owner’s desk. The desk itself was somewhat messy and disorganized. Various medical charts and notes were scattered across its surface, and a stack of folders was piled up in the top corner of the table. The doves cooed at the Doctor as they made their way to the side room off of the infirmary.

Medic opened the door and sat down in a soft chair across from a loveseat. The room was what they used for therapy, it’s carpeted and cozy interior was a stark contrast from the room that looked like something from a horror movie they just exited.

On a nearby table was a bin filled with various fidget toys and other sensory items. Bandit plucked a tangle fidget from the pile and began to mess around with it. 

Medic hummed thoughtfully, and asked, “So are Herr Scout and Herr Spy two separate entities within your mind, or has their combined consciousnesses merged and become one entirely new one?”

Bandit was somewhat taken off guard by this, “Uh, I don’t really know, it’s complicated.”

He knitted his brows together, “Why do you ask?”

“It may provide some insight into how this situation is affecting you,” he explained breezily. “Also,” he continued with a gleam in his eyes, “I’m very curious to know how the mind of a fusion works. It’s just so interesting! I would really like to find the answers to the questions I’ve had at the front of my mind all day too.”

“Oh, okay then.”

Bandit had to admit that finding out fusion was real was pretty exciting, but being unable to unfuse put a large damper on his attitude towards this discovery. At least Medic could find some enthusiasm out of this.

The masked fusion fiddled with the toy in his hands. “Uh, I’m not sure how to describe it...I think it’s somehow a mix of both. Like, some of my thoughts feel like their leaning towards Scout, and some of them lean more towards Spy. At the same time some thoughts just come from...both..of….them??? I don’t know.” 

He shook his head. 

Medic scooted to the edge of his seat, “So would you say that both of their personalities combine when they don’t strongly lean towards either side?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I really don’t know, doctor. We’ve only been like this for a couple hours at most.” 

Thoughts of cigarettes invaded his mind, sparking off the debate amongst himself once again.

“Anyways, about the smoking thing, can you help me with that?”

Medic hummed, “Yes, perhaps this is a good opportunity to get Spy to finally quit.”

“Maybe, but we’re not doing it cold turkey.” Spy had tried it in the past, but that hadn’t worked out too well for him. In hindsight, it may have made his addiction worse. But both sides seemed in agreement that quitting was a good idea. 

The doctor nodded, “Ja, that is the most difficult way to do it. I believe that Herr Sniper has some nicotine gum left over from when he was quitting. Why don’t you go ask him for some?”   

“Yeah, alright that sounds good, I think. Thanks Doc.” He placed the fidget back into the box, nodded to the doctor, then strode out of the room.

The fusion arrived at Sniper’s van, itching to get some nicotine in his system. He really hoped that this would be the end of Spy’s addiction, and not the beginning of a new addiction for Scout. 

He quickly rapped his fist on the camper door. There was a rustling from inside, and the weathered door creaked open. Sniper peered at him from the doorway, “Hi mate, how’s it going?”

He shrugged, “As good as it can be, I suppose.” 

“So, bloody awful then?”

“Pretty much,” he said, nodding. “Hey, I was wondering, do you have any of that nicotine gum left? The doc said you had some.”

Sniper blinked, before a thoughtful expression appeared on his face, “Uh, yeah, I think I do. Don’t know where I put it though.” He stepped back from the doorway and motioned for Bandit to enter.

Bandit followed, eyeing the cramped interior. He hopped up onto the unmade bed and sat on the edge, kicking his legs. 

The sharpshooter rummaged through one of the cabinets under the sink. Setting beside a comical amount of unopened coffee cans, he half crawled into the tiny space. He pulled himself out shortly after, a dusty cobweb stuck to his hat. 

He walked over to the closet, reached for a flashlight, only to spot the package sitting right next to it. 

Sniper threw the box to the fusion on his bed. Bandit caught it effortlessly, “Thanks,” he said, inspecting the packaging. It was generic brand, from the local pharmacy with a picture of what he assumed one piece of gum looked like, surrounded with mint leaves.  
There was one blister pack left in the container, and only three pieces left in the pack. He supposed this would have to do for now. Bandit popped a piece out of the packaging and into his mouth.

He laid down on the bed, his legs still dangling off the side. 

“I’m‒Spy’s going to try to quit smoking,”

Sniper sat down at his kitchen/dining room table, “Sounds good mate. To be honest, nothing good really comes from that habit, in my experience.”

Bandit sighed, “I know, it’s such a waste of time and money, not to mention all the health problems that come with it. I know the Doctor said it can be a form of self-harm too.” 

The bushman shifted in his seat a bit, he had talked with Scout about the runner’s experiences with self-harm in the past, but Spy almost never talked openly about his past or his scars. 

“Really?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“Yeah, they’re both self-destructive coping mechanisms, and for some people self destruction is what they’re going for.”

Sniper shifted nervously in his seat, “What about you?”

Bandit sat up at that and looked at the sharpshooter with wide eyes, “No, that’s not‒uh, I didn’t mean it was that way for me.” He pulled his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged. “I was just saying that’s another reason smoking isn’t good, alright?”

“Okay, no worries mate, just checking,” he said, relaxing visibly.

An awkward silence fell between them. 

“....So, anyways,” Bandit drawled, “Isn’t it weird that Merasmus is back now, doesn’t he only show up around Halloween?”

“Yeah, Solly usually pisses him off around that time of year for some reason.”

“Maybe it’s a wizard thing?” The fusion speculated. 

Sniper shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine, Band.”

Bandit raised an eyebrow at the name, “Band?”

“Yep.”

The fusion broke into a toothy grin, “What kind of band am I then?”

“Rubber,” he deadpanned. 

Bandit burst out laughing and snorting. “Better watch out then, ‘cause I just might fling myself right at you,” he quipped.

“Are you flirting or is that a threat?” Sniper asked, amused.

“Yes,” The gray-eyed man smirked. 

“Alright, fine. Keep your secrets.”

Lunch time rolled around and they were still chatting away. Engie had to come outside to tell them that lunch was ready. The pair joined the rest of the mercs in the mess hall. It was Pyro and Demo’s turn to cook, and they were serving up heaping plates of spaghetti to their teammates. The smell of Pyro’s homemade tomato sauce was in the air, everyone loved their cooking. 

“So Bandit, how are you adjusting to being, well, you?” Engie asked once they were settled down.

Bandit spun some pasta around his fork, “I’m doing alright. I think I’m over the initial shock now, but I still have so many questions about this whole thing.”

“Like what?”

“Like, how does this affect me biologically. If I unfuse after I eat, will half of the food in my stomach go to Spy and the other half to Scout, or what?”

He nodded, “Yeah, can’t say I know the answer to that one, but I do have a question you may be able to answer for me.”

The fusion looked up from his plate, “What is it?”

“How did you know you couldn’t unfuse?”

“Oh, well, you see, I believe that if I could do that then I would have done it right after I found out I‒or I mean, my components found out they were fused. If we’re going by Steven Universe rules, that is.” He shrugged, “Either way, the wizard probably meant this to be some kind of curse, so it wouldn’t make sense to allow us to undo the spell that easily.”

Engie took a sip of his water, then replied, “Sounds about right to me. It’s good to hear you’re doing better now, partner. You looked pretty spooked back there,” Engineer said, flashing him a smile that warmed him to the core. Bandit smiled back, tapping his feet under the table. 

Engie has such a nice, genuine smile. It was the kind of smile that could make your whole day, one he could look at for hours.

Wait, hold on. He was certain that wasn’t Scout thinking that, Engie was old enough to be his dad for God’s sake.

Oh. He understood now. 

The Spy part of him was flustered by this, and looked away, hoping the mask covered his burning cheeks.

The laborer looked at him in confusion etched with concern. Bandit looked back at him and cleared his throat. 

“So anyway, I have some good news to tell you!” he announced, injecting some cheer into his tone. “I’m quitting smoking.” 

Demo, sitting to his left smiled brightly, “Oi, good for you mate!” He slapped his teammate on the back encouragingly. 

“Oh! That reminds me,” Engie pulled out two boxes of nicotine gum, “The doc told me to pick these up for you.”

“Thank you, laborer,” he said, grabbing the packages and putting them away.

Engie just waved his hand, “Aw, shoot it ain’t no thing.” Then there was that smile again,  
“I’m proud of you.”

His blush came back at full force this time, no doubt it was showing past the only half mask now. “Well, don’t get too ahead of yourself, I only just decided this today,” he deflected, or at least he tried to.

Wow, he really had it bad, didn’t he?

Shut up.

“Hey, I know you can do it, besides you’ve got us to help keep you on track now,” Engie pointed out. “Right, fellas?”

Murmurs of agreement went around the room ranging from Soldier’s confident “Affirmative!” to Pyro’s silent double thumbs up. Medic said he already had a plan drawn up to help Spy quit from the beginning, and Sniper promised to help give him tips for dealing with withdrawal. Bandit had his whole team behind him, cheering him on. 

Thee fusion smiled, “Alright, well, I will do my best.”

He would hate to let them down after all this unwavering support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out a little longer than the last one, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I couldn't help slipping in some engiespy towards the end, Scout is absolutely going to tease him for that later lmao.


	3. Divided Unity: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bandit finds out more about fusion, with help from Demo

Lunch went by quickly and without incident, a welcome change from the confusion of that morning. Bandit went back for seconds, his first serving not being enough to satisfy him.

Medic pulled out a notepad and scribbled something down upon noticing this. Bandit looked over his shoulder to read it, but he put it away before he could begin to decipher his barely legible handwriting.

Still, the atmosphere was comfortingly familiar. It was nice to get back to some level of normalcy, even if the conversations they were having consisted of less than normal subjects.

Just after lunch ended, Demo approached the fusion, a mysterious leather-bound book in hand.

“Oi lad, so I was doing some research, and I found some pretty interesting things about fusion in here,” he said, showing Bandit the cover. There was a rune that was shaped like a Venn diagram, but with diamonds instead of circles on the front.

“Like what?” he asked, raising a brow.

Demo smiled, “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

They made their way to the common room. Heavy and Medic were sitting on the couch, the doctor leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder as the larger man read. Medic himself was knitting a yellow, orange, and red striped scarf for someone. He was working on a red stripe at the moment.

The two men sat themselves on the empty couch across from them. Demo flipped through the pages before finding what he was looking for. Bandit scooted closer to look at the page he stopped at and peered at the text.

It was written in runes.

Of course.

He swore that sometimes his teammates did things like this on purpose just to spite him.

The fusion grumbled something under his breath, crossing his arms and laying back in his seat. Demo spotted him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

“Alright mate, take your gloves off and put them on the table,” he instructed.

Bandit pressed his back further into the couch and squinted suspiciously.

“Calm down, I’m not gonna keek at your arms or anything,” he waved his hand dismissively. “I just wanna show you something.”

Gingerly, Bandit peeled off his gloves, and set them down on the table as instructed. He looked at the gloves then back to Demo, “Sooo, are you gonna explain, or what?”

“Just watch.”

Before his eyes, the garments began to glow in a familiar white light and separate into two distinct shapes. It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as when they first fused, but it was still a sight to behold. Once the transformation was complete, what remained was Spy’s original long gloves, and Scout’s grip tape in a pile on the table.

Bandit sat up and blinked at the sight before him. He wasn’t sure whether to ask how or why his gloves turned into their original counterparts. Was this somehow a way he could unfuse or something? He looked to his friend for an explanation once again.

Demo just shrugged, “Don’t look at me, if I could explain why it works, I’d call it science.”

Medic watched them with fascination in his eyes, his notebook out and ready to go. 

“Ooooooh wunderbar! If it is alright with you two, I would love to find out more about fusion myself!”

The explosives expert looked at Bandit for any objections, finding none, he replied, “Sure, why not?”

The doctor broke into a huge grin, it would have been threatening, had they not known him better. He set his knitting aside and scooted to the edge of his seat.

Building off of the first demonstration, Demo told Bandit, “Just put those back on, and they should change back.”

Bandit slid on the two long gloves first, then hastily wrapped the grip tape around his hands again. He didn’t bother to make sure he tied them correctly, since they were just going to disappear anyway.

Sure enough, his hands were enveloped in light and the fingerless gloves returned. Medic was thoroughly impressed, his mouth formed a small ‘o’ and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

“You can do that with pretty much anything you own too,” Demo explained.

Bandit raised an eyebrow, “I can’t do it to other people’s stuff?”

“Well, you can,” he answered, shrugging, “But it’ll separate bloody quick if it’s not on you or in your inventory.”

Strange, he didn’t think magic would affect things like personal inventories. For some reason he didn’t think magic and such complex technology would work together very well. Just another surprise to add to the list, he supposed.

Bandit pulled out his phone, and sure enough his counterparts’ phones had combined into one as well. He turned it on and luckily, it wasn’t protected by any password. Good, guessing the thousands of ways his counterparts’ passwords could have combined would be nearly impossible. That, and he wasn’t in the mood to hack his own phone at the moment. Bandit made a mental note to investigate the other changes to his device later.

“Demo, does your book say anything about an increased appetite?” Medic inquired.

“Uhh..” Demo flipped the page and scanned across the text, “Yeah, right here. It says that fusions eat about as much as the people they’re made up of combined.”

The doctor pulled out his notebook again, “Fascinating,” he said, drawing a check mark, looking pretty satisfied that this theory was correct.

“Doctor has been talking about this all day,” Heavy mused, not looking up from his book.

“Oh, quiet you,” he backhanded him lightly, a wide grin on his face, “This is just too   
interesting not to talk about!”

Heavy smiled, “That is fifth time you said that.”

Medic laughed, “Maybe, but don’t pretend you’re not interested too!”

“Maybe a little.”

“See! I knew it,” the doctor exclaimed, a cheeky grin on his face.

“So, what else does your book say about fusions?” he asked, turning his attention back to Demo.

“Well, the thing about fusions is they have the combined power of the people they’re made of,” He smirked, “And the combined magic.”

Bandit’s eyes widened in confusion and intrigue, “What do you mean by that?”

Demo’s smile widened, “What I’m saying is, both Scout and Spy’s combined magic, plus the magic keeping you two fused gives you magic powers.”

He gasped in awe, then paused, “Wait a minute, Spy and Scout don’t have magic,” he said, lowering his brows.

“But you do though! Everybody does!” Demo said, poking Bandit’s chest.

Bandit wrinkled his forehead a bit, partially at the finger thrusted into his personal space, “How?” he asked.

“You start with some level of magic when you’re born, more or less depending on your parents, and that can also increase the more you’re exposed to it.”

“So, basically, what you’re saying is, I’m a wizard.”

Demo cackled, “Aye, you’re a wizard, Bandit.”

The fusion laughed too at the reference; it was iconic enough to recognize despite never reading or watching Harry Potter himself.

“So, what kind of magic powers do I have?” he asked.

“All fusions have the power to combine things, but other than that I can’t say what others you might have.” He paused for a moment, “Though you might only have one more besides that for now, since you don’t have that much experience with magic.”

Bandit deflated a bit. He was kinda hoping for more than one special power, maybe then this whole situation would be worth it.

Demo noticed his disappointment and said, “Cheer up lad, I’m sure whatever power you get will be great!”

“I know,” he chuckled a little, “It better be good.”

He plastered a fake grin on his face. Look at him, just finding out he has powers and now he’s all pouty like a spoiled child told they have to choose only one expensive toy from the toy store. Just be grateful, it’s not like he deserves powers anyway.

Wow, okay, time to stop that train of thought right at the station. Being slightly disappointed at his small power set is no reason to beat himself up. Would he treat a friend like this?

No.

Well, he might tease, but would be it.

Bandit shifted his focus towards thoughts of potential powers. Maybe super speed? No, he’s fast enough without it. Being able to levitate things would be cool, he could do all sorts of things with that. He asked his teammates their predictions.

Demo said he had a book on potential powers somewhere in his room and went to go get it. They spent the afternoon flipping through the pages laughing and debating the uses for some of the powers it listed.

Some he recognized, like the ability to create Jarate rain. Really, it was hard to forget that one. He grimaced at the thought of being covered in piss, that is something he could never get used to no matter how many times it happened.

Still, there were some cool powers in there, like being able to stick to and climb up walls. There was also the basic super strength, various forms of flight, and fire immunity.

There were so many possibilities, his power could be pretty much anything. Bandit could only hope it was something cool and not weird like cheese manipulation or a head that could rotate 360 degrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demoman? More like Expositionman lmao.


	4. Divided Unity: Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BLU Team and Saxton Hale return to base.

Bandit woke the next day to the incessant beeping of his phone’s alarm. He reached over to the nightstand near him blindly and peeled his eyes open. Wincing at the blinding light shining into his unadjusted pupils, he hastily turned the alarm off. Bandit shut his eyes again, letting his arm drape over his face.

He groaned as his body reminded him he hadn’t had a proper smoke since yesterday. The craving for some form of nicotine gnawed at him and flooded his mind. Usually Spy would have a cigarette in his smoking room just before breakfast, but that would have to change now that he made his decision to quit.

Not feeling particularly adamant about getting out of bed yet, he instead let his mind shift to a different topic.

The BLUs were coming back today, they shouldn’t arrive until around noon though. He wondered what their reaction would be to this whole situation. Scout was good friends with the BLU Scout and Demo, while Spy…...took a lot longer to warm up to new people, especially considering they used to be enemies.

And because he was a huge Tsundere.

No, shut up.

Come on, it’s true though!

He refused to dignify...himself with a response?

This is stupid.

Anyway! Bandit should probably get dressed now, like hell he was going to let the other mercs see him without proper clothes. He had at least half a reputation to keep after all.

He got up and messily made Spy’s bed, not bothering to neaten out all the wrinkles and make it look perfect, but enough so that everything was in their proper places. It wasn’t like the other mercs made it a habit of coming into Spy’s room, he made it clear that they should stay out unless invited. Or else.

He pulled out one of the boxes of nicotine gum, and popped a piece in his mouth. It would have to hold him over until after breakfast.

Bandit grabbed one of Scout’s T-shirts from the pile on top of the wardrobe. Gathering the rest of the components to his counterparts’ respective uniforms, he set out to combine articles. He changed quickly, not wanting to prolong the awkward moment of nudity any more than he had to.

Once dressed, he made his way over to the kitchen. He couldn’t remember who was supposed to make breakfast today, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t his turn yet.

Bandit noticed Demo passed out in the hallway, a bottle of scrumpy in hand. There was no puddle on the floor, so it was probably empty. He was using the wall as a pillow, his chin digging into his chest. Demo would probably have a sore neck if he kept sleeping like that. Without a second thought, Bandit pulled him into a more comfortable position. He retrieved a pillow from Demo’s room and carefully propped it up under the man’s head.

The fusion continued to the kitchen and grabbed himself a can of Bonk! from the now sour creamless fridge. Medic had not been very happy that Soldier had interpreted ‘Get rid of all this sour cream’ as ‘Bury the fridge in the desert.` Luckily, none of their food spoiled while he was off doing that.

Engie, always an early riser, was already in the mess hall, sipping his coffee and looking over some blueprints. He nodded to the fusion as he passed by. Pyro was also sitting nearby, playing a game on their 3ds.

In the kitchen, Heavy and Medic were working on breakfast, they were both pretty good cooks, so he wasn’t worried about them burning the base down. Medic was hard at work peeling apples, while Heavy beat an egg and sugar mix with a whisk.

Sniper wouldn’t be up for awhile, he was by no means a morning person. Bandit fondly smiled at memories of him groggily shuffling into the mess hall each morning. The way his hair was always messed up when he first woke up was pretty cute.

Oh really? Interesting.

Oh God.

Now it was the Spy part of him’s turn to tease. So, Sniper hmm? He could admit the man has his moments, especially on the battlefield, even if he is a weirdo who lives in a van.

Hey man, come on! Not cool! Sniper is one of the coolest, if not THE coolest dude he knows. He’s practically an expert when it comes to plants and animals and stuff, to the point where Scout would go to him first for any questions relating to flora or fauna. Not only that, but he is an awesome listener and even though he can be awkward, he tries his best!

Okay, okay. He gets the point. No need to get all defensive. Spy is happy for him nonetheless, really.

Had they not been sharing a head, Scout probably would have doubted the truth of that statement. He probably would have prodded further too, but that small conflict had muddled his brain immensely.

Internal conversations always made him feel like he was trying to think for two people at once but this conflict made that feeling _double_. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, and an unpleasant one at that. Bandit felt a bit lightheaded, and tried to shake away the feeling. If something small like this was enough to make him feel like this, then he would hate to find out what a full blown argument would do. Perhaps he should try and avoid things he _knows_ his halves disagree on until they unfuse.

He plopped himself down in a chair next to his friends. He peeked over Pyro’s shoulder to see what they were playing. Looks like they were busy catching bugs in Animal Crossing. Maybe Bandit could make himself a file on Scout’s copy of the game later.

Soldier entered the mess hall some time later, having finished his daily calisthenics and inspection of the base, probably waking everyone else up on his way here.

Sniper followed shortly after, bleary eyed and shuffling towards the coffee pot like a zombie. A very handsome zombie.

“Morning, Snipes,” Bandit greeted.

All Sniper had to offer was a wave that more resembled swatting at some unseen fly than anything and some mumbled words. The marksman groggily searched for his usual mug. Finding it, he poured himself a cup and plopped down next to the fusion.

When they first started working together, Sniper wouldn’t have left his van to hang out with the other mercs unprompted. He had a coffee pot that worked just fine, and enough cans of the stuff to keep him going for awhile. Socialization—outside of a professional setting—really wasn’t his forte.

Sniper probably would have stayed cooped up in his trailer for a long time, had Scout not made the effort of befriending him. It had been slow, at first, small conversations here and there, with Scout being the one to approach 99% of the time. Sniper appreciated how Scout was more than happy to talk to him, despite his input being minimal at best.

Maybe that’s why Scout likes him so much, with Sniper he could ramble pretty much all he wanted and the guy wouldn’t even mind. That’s not to say he never let Sniper get a word in. Scout always made sure to ask him for his two cents every so often, especially in the earlier days of their friendship.

Bandit looked to the man in question, who had his head resting on the table in front of him, looking like he was about to pass out right there and then. He let out a little huff of amusement and ruffled his hair, teasing, “Hey Sunshine, how’d you sleep?”

Sniper groggily swatted his hand away and mumbled, “Shut yer bloody hole, Scou- uh Bandit.” He turned his head to glare at Bandit, who had a wide grin on his face.

“Oh my God, you look like an angry little kitten right now,” he laughed. “Drink your coffee, you fucking egg.”

“I’ll kill you.”

Bandit grinned harder, “Not even a proper chicken yet!”

“I’ll kill you, and then you’ll be dead.”

“Just a baby.”

Sniper just ignored him, sipping his coffee.

Not too long after breakfast the unfortunately familiar sound of a plane engine combusting alerted the RED team to the arrival of their boss and the BLU team. Saxton Hale hurtled downwards at top speed, parachuteless with a dead chupacabra under one arm and an alive and screaming Jerry under the other. You would think he would be used to this by now, but no.

The BLUs had the sense to actually wear parachutes, and were rather peacefully floating to the ground while their plane crashed not so peacefully in the background. By some miracle or sheer dumb luck it didn’t crash into the base, and instead landed in the desert, roughly where Soldier tried to bury the fridge the day before.

To be honest, Bandit was not a huge fan of how close to base Saxton had decided to ‘land’ the plane. He had a lot of expensive things in there that he would prefer not to have destroyed.

Unfortunately, their boss has a concerning amount of what Scout would call ‘chaotic energy.’ He’s reckless to a fault with a distinct lack of awareness of how his actions may affect others. Talking the man out of dangerous stunts like this would be like talking to a big, musclebound wall. How the base managed to stay intact this long was a mystery.

Saxton laughed triumphantly as he landed on his feet, somehow not injuring himself in the process. Bandit wondered if the man was hooked up to respawn, maybe that would explain why he felt free to perform death-defying feats on the regular. Or maybe he prefers the risk? Who knows.

Carefully placing his prize and his pilot down on the desert sand, Saxton scanned his eyes across the mercs waiting before him. His face lit up in a smile when he spotted Bandit amongst them, and strode over.

“Wow, would you look at that,” Saxton said, eyeing him up and circling him. “Thought you’d be a bit taller, but nah, you’re still a tiny little bugger.”

“Uh.”

“Bet you’re a bit stronger now, right?” he nudged Bandit with his elbow.  


“Yeah, I guess I-”

“Great!” Saxton exclaimed. He jumped in front of the fusion holding his fists in front of him. “What do you say you and I have a bit of a throwdown, eh?”

Hell no! The guy would send him through respawn in five seconds flat, all he would have to do is grab him by the skull and twist. Even if he didn’t intentionally try to kill him, being punched once would be like a cannonball to the face, and Bandit wasn’t thinking of the diving move. Fusion or not, he was twig, _especially_ compared to Saxton Hale. The man who seeks out and beats dangerous beasts like bears to death with his bare hands pretty much every day.

Saxton roared with laughter, “I’m just kidding, I couldn’t beat up a child!” He slapped the fusion on the back, nearly knocking him over in the process.

Bandit wanted to argue that he was not a child, that one of his components was in fact older than him. But he didn’t want Saxton to take that as an invitation to kick his ass into next week. He kept his mouth shut, settling for an irritated scowl instead.

Luckily for him, Saxton’s phone began ringing. He pulled it out and answered without checking to see who it was, “Hello, Saxton Hale here,” he paused for a moment, letting the person speak, “Bidwell! How’s it going?”

He walked off, leaving Bandit to his own devices. That was a bit anticlimactic. Not unwelcome, per say, but the timing was pretty strange.

Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he supposed.

The BLUs landed around him, some managed to land on their feet, others preferred to stick to the traditional rolling landing. Some, like the BLU Scout, managed to land on their face.

“Ow! Fuck, shit. Stupid fucking ground, fuck.” BLU Scout picked himself off the aforementioned ground.

“You alright?”

“Uh, yeah! Totally meant to do that!” he said, like a liar.

“Did you? Are you _sure_ about that, Luke?” Bandit laughed.

The BLU Scout, Lucas, was taken aback, “How do you know my name?”

Bandit squinted at him, “Didn’t they tell you?”

“Nooo? Tell me what?”

“We, uh, Scout and Spy got hit with some kind of spell and now I’m-we’re fused.” Talking about his components like they weren’t him hadn’t gotten any less weird at this point, and calling himself ‘we’ stopped feeling natural awhile ago.

Lucas stared at him, jaw slack and mouth agape, “Fusion’s real?!”

Bandit just nodded, a wide grin on his face.

“Duuude, that’s so fucking wicked!”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I guess. So um, did they really not tell you anything?”

“Nah, not a word.”

Bandit hummed, “We’ll have to have another meeting then, get you guys up to date.”

And so, Bandit gathered up the BLUs, and herded them all into the meeting room. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to explain it anymore after this. He told them about the situation, including the information he got from Demo the other day.

The BLU Spy glanced at his teammates, none of them showed any hint of suspicion towards Bandit. For some incomprehensible reason they were just taking this man’s word as fact. The BLU Spy, Alain, thought at least some of his teammates would have the sense to doubt him, but no.

It wasn’t even a _good_ cover story! Fusion? Please, Alain could come up with a better excuse in his sleep. Bandit was clearly a spy, and not one of the REDs like he so claimed. They may have had their fair share of experiences with magic, but still, this is ridiculous.

Alain scrutinized his target, the man clearly knew enough about them men he insisted he was made of to impersonate them. He could see both their mannerisms in his movements. Bandit kept one hand behind his back, like RED Spy, and gestured wildly with the other, like RED Scout. His gait was also somewhat bouncy, but more subdued than Scout’s energetic way of carrying himself. Still though, just because he has attention to detail that doesn’t mean he could fool the BLU Spy that easily.

“Spy, I can see you making faces at me, what’s the problem?” Bandit said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Alain stiffened, the man was more observant than he initially gave him credit for. “Well,” he said, hesitating, “I don’t understand _how_ you expect us to believe this ridiculous story without any proof, you see.” He hoped that a lie close to the truth would save him from further scrutiny.

“Oh yeah, right.” Bandit turned to the RED Medic, “Hey Doc, back me up here.”

“Ja, we all heard the explosion from inside the base, and of course I checked to make sure it was really them,” Medic explained.

“Checked how?”

The doctor looked hesitant, and turned to Bandit, asking a silent question. Bandit glanced at Spy, grimaced, then turned back to Medic and shook his head.

“I can’t say, but I _am_ certain it is them.”

So Bandit was somehow able to convince Medic that his story was true. That, or the RED Medic was in on his plan, whatever it was. Perhaps this went deeper than Alain originally thought. Regardless, Spy was going to get to the bottom of this, and he would let nothing stand in his way of the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to deathtothecrows for betaing this for me ^_^


	5. Divided Unity: Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BLU Spy stalks Bandit. Bandit is not amused.

The BLU Spy had been monitoring Bandit for the past two and a half days. So far he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, besides exist. Alain wasn’t an impatient person, their job involved a lot of watching and waiting after all. Still, they itched to have their questions answered, and Bandit was not being particularly helpful in solving this case.

Furthermore, Scout and Spy were still missing, so time was of the essence. They weren’t _dead._ They would have respawned by now if they did die. Having their individual respawns disabled would take an intimate level of knowledge of the technology involved. 

Perhaps that was Bandit’s angle, gaining access to the respawn room so he can destroy it and kill them all. It wasn’t an implausible theory, considering how many enemies their boss has and the fact the mercs doubled as the company’s defence.

Tucking away that theory for later, Spy resumed surveillance. Right now Bandit was just scrolling through Tumblr on his phone. He was using Scout’s personal account. This account had zero organization, unlike the one he used for youtuber related posts. Spy followed both accounts originally to gather information about Scout. The RED Spy had little to no social media presence outside of a few throwaway accounts Alain was able to connect to him. Those seemed to be for doxxing people and surveillance. Not uncommon for a spy in this day and age.

They had to give RED Spy a little credit there, for a 51 year old man, he at least had the sense to learn how to use technology to his advantage. A lesser spy from his age group would have ignored the advantages things like the internet posed to people in their profession. Adaptability is one of the most important skills a spy could have after all. The ability to change plans and think on one’s feet is essential and can be the difference between life and death in most cases. Alain had some close calls in the past because they became too used to a routine, and therefore became predictable.

Of course there was no avoiding routines here at Fortress, but there was definitely more leeway considering how well protected they were. Fortress was well known for being the most long lived employer of mercenaries in the world. With Mann Co being the longest lived supplier of weapons and goods to mercenaries. Companies like this don’t last that long by being weak and vulnerable to attacks. Well, ordinary companies typically don’t have to worry about physical attacks, only ones that involved mercs. That wasn’t to say these companies and mercenary-involved companies never interacted, though.

Due to the nature of their competition, mercenary companies had to deal with others trying to steal their intelligence, jobs, and other private information much more frequently. This may not have been legal, but it was the kind of illicit activity law enforcement could care less about so long as they were bribed. Alain had been hired plenty of times by both mercenary-involved and ordinary companies to steal information.

Bandit was likely a spy sent to do just that, probably hired by one of Saxton Hale’s long list of sworn enemies. It was certainly more believable than that flimsy fusion alibi Bandit came up with. Though as Spy observed him, they couldn’t help but notice similarities between the man and those he claimed formed him.

For one thing he shared Scout’s fidgety nature, ninety percent of the time Bandit had some part of him moving. Right now he was playing with his weird tie on a dog-tag chain type thing, running the fabric through his fingers over and over. As for his relation to RED Spy, he definitely cared about his looks quite a bit. Alain observed him checking himself in the mirror just as often as Ren. 

It was still a bit weird that they knew and were allowed to call the REDs by their real names now. Although it was definitely better than shouting someone’s class and having two people respond at the same time. Having to say the team color along with the class was kind of a mouthful.

Bandit unplugged his earbuds and set them on the table. He jumped from his seat and ran over to the place his wireless headphones were charging. Putting them on and holding the button on the right earphone, he turned on Bluetooth and connected it to his phone.

Looks like it was going to be another hour of watching Bandit run back and forth again. That was also something he shared with RED Scout. Spy moved themselves to a better vantage point, somewhere safely out of Bandit’s path. They stood in their corner, annoyed that they still had nothing on this man who claimed to be one of their coworkers.

Spy wasn’t the only one that was annoyed, though. Bandit knew that Spy was watching him. At this point it was pretty obvious. For one thing, he rarely saw them outside of mealtimes anymore. And even when he did see them, they always asked questions that seemed to imply something. Like they were trying to get information, or implanting some idea in his head.

Bandit wasn’t dumb, he could tell that something was up with Spy from the get go. Alain’s expression during the meeting may have seemed neutral to the untrained eye, but Bandit had plenty of experience reading microexpressions, and not even the BLU Spy had been able to cover up those completely.

It was obvious that Alain was suspicious of him, and Bandit supposed he would find the whole thing fishy as well if he was in their place.That didn’t change the fact that being watched at practically every hour was extremely unnerving. Withdrawal only made it worse, and so did the emotional dysregulation from Scout’s ADHD. He did his best not to let any of that show, though.

For the past few days Bandit had chosen to lay low until BLU Spy finally figured out that he was no threat. There was really nothing he was actively trying to hide, aside from Spy’s scars. Despite the fact they had taken pictures of Spy making love to Louis’ mother when they were dating, Spy always made sure to wear a disguise under his mask that hid his scars before having sex. It had only been cosmetic, she could still feel the raised skin when her hands brushed over them. But Ren didn’t like to look at them, and it hid the scars from any prying eyes. Alain had already seen Scout’s scars a few years ago, but that’s a story for another day.

Right now Bandit was pacing back and forth as Touch Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon blared from his headphones. Stimming like this was one of Scout’s and by extension Bandit’s favorite pastimes. But he felt awkward doing this when he knew people were staring, even if he couldn’t see Spy anywhere, the knowledge was enough to make him tone down his movements. Much to his frustration.

After a few hours of switching between pacing, going on the internet, and drawing Bandit’s mind gave him this gem: He should totally mess with Spy. He stifled a smile, and pulled out a sticky note. Swiveling his head back and forth, pretending to look around for anyone, he hid the little piece of pink paper and scribbled something down. He quickly folded it and shoved it into his pocket. This should be fun.

Bandit eventually got bored of scrolling through Tumblr and Youtube, so he decided to pay Engie a visit. The RED one, he didn’t know BLU Engie all that well. Of course RED Spy had stalked him, like he did with pretty much everyone here.

Hey!

Shh, you should have probably guessed that by now. 

I know, but still. Hey!

Whatever, as he was saying; stalking someone and knowing them personally were two completely different things. They had only been working with the BLUs for about a year now, and quite frankly neither of them had much of an interest in befriending the BLU Engineer. To be honest, most of the BLUs disliked Ren because they just disliked spies in general. Whatever, if they wanted to hold grudges, then that was their own problem.

Bandit strolled into the shared workshop, announcing his presence, “Hey Engie.” Both Engineers looked up from their individual projects.

Bandit sighed, rolling his eyes, “I mean Dell.”

The RED Engineer wiped some motor oil off of his gloves, “What can I do for you, Bandit?”

“I don’t know. Wanna take a break and hang out?” He shrugged. Bandit knew that Engie would be in the workshop all day if he didn’t have the same needs as any other human being. Memories of Spy finding Engie passed out at his workstation flooded his mind. It wasn’t that he preferred work over socializing, he just didn’t know how to take breaks. This would be good for both Bandit’s boredom and Engie’s workaholic nature.

“Uh,” Engie glanced on the new sentry prototype he was working on, “Yeah, sure. Just let me clean up a bit.”

“You better! I don’t want _any_ of that gunk on me,” Bandit laughed. 

Engie held out his arms jokingly, “Aw, what? You don’t want a hug?”

Bandit snorted, “No way! I don’t know if combining clothes with Scout made my clothes more or less expensive, but _you’re_ paying to replace them if I find even the tiniest drop of oil on them!” 

Engie chuckled, “Alright, alright.”

They headed to Dell’s room so he could change into something clean. Bandit leaned against the wall next to the door, expecting to wait for him to finish.

“Aw, it’s fine. Come on in,” Engie said, opening the door for him.

Bandit blinked, but complied. Sitting on the bed and bouncing his leg, he watched Engie shuffle through his drawers for a fresh set of clothes. He pulled out a red plaid flannel and a basic pair of jeans. 

Before Bandit could react, Engie had shucked his dirty t-shirt onto the floor. Some people might call what Dell has going on a ‘Dad bod,’ and yes, Bandit supposed he could see why, to an extent. But he also had the figure of someone who carries around heavy machinery all day. Not like a bodybuilder, no, their muscles were mostly for show. Engie had proper muscles, not as obvious just by looking, but solid and decently toned.

Bandt glanced at his chest, his eyes going to the scars right under both of Dell’s pecs from top surgery that happened years ago. He supposed Engie being trans added a whole other layer of trust to changing in front of him. It wasn’t like he kept it a secret, he had told the team from the get-go. Perhaps he didn’t want to give Spy the chance to use it against him. Not that he would have, Spy wasn’t that cruel. 

Everyone had reacted positively anyway, Soldier being the most enthusiastic. Well, he was pretty much always enthusiastic, but he had been especially so because he came out as trans too. Soldier had also offered to have his roommate use some sort of magic to help Engie transition, but he had politely declined.

“So, you getting used to everything alright?” Engie asked, snapping Bandit back to reality. 

He blushed, realizing he had been staring at Dell the whole time. Engie let out a little chuckle at that. 

Clearing his throat, Bandit replied, “Uh, yeah. It’s still kind of weird, being an entirely new person, but I also feel the same somehow? Like, the Spy part of me is used to being Spy, but at the same time the Scout part of me _isn’t_ used to being Spy. Does that make any sense?” 

He glanced up for a moment only to avert his gaze back to the floor. That sight of Dell stepping into his jeans elicited some conflicting emotions that he would, quite frankly, rather do without. 

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that. Heh, this’d probably be much harder to understand if Scout didn’t make us binge watch Steven Universe with him,” Engie chuckled. 

Bandit laughed too, “Yeah, definitely. Hey! Maybe that’s why Spy’s been following me around these past couple days! They haven’t seen the show!” 

“What,” Engie asked, paling.

“Yeah! It’s been so annoying! I’ve been trying to lay low so he’ll lay off me. But the guy just won't stop. So what’s the point of keeping up this little song and dance anymore? This clearly isn’t doing anything. Hell, he’s probably in this room right now.”

Oh. OH.

Engie shifted nervously, looking around the room. And as if on cue, there BLU Spy appeared, right in the corner. They both flinched, but they just strode over, seemingly unperturbed by their reactions.

“So, you finally figured it out? Hm, I expected longer,” Alain said, like they were commenting on the news.

“Of course I noticed! You’ve been ghosting me ever since you got here!” Bandit shot. That wasn’t the only thing that tipped him off, but he wasn’t about to give Spy tips on how to improve their stalking.

Engie shouted, “Now what do you think you’re doing in here?!” His face was absolutely red with anger and embarrassment.

“Relax, laborer. I have enough self control to keep my eyes off you.” They glanced at Bandit, “Unlike, _somebody. _”__

____

Bandit gasped, “You-!” He made the motions to get up.

____

Engie put a hand on his shoulder, “No, let me handle this.” 

____

Dell gave Alain the meanest glare he could conjure up, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

____

“I was-”

____

“No! I don’t wanna hear it! I don’t care about any of your crappy excuses! I invited _Bandit_ to chat with me while I changed, not you!”

____

“But we’re-”

____

“Both trans! Yeah, well that doesn’t mean _shit._ I don’t feel comfortable with _you_ seeing _me_ in my undies. ‘Specially not since you think hiding in someone’s room while they’re getting dressed is acceptable so long as you don’t _look_ at them. How am I supposed to know you _weren’t_ looking, huh?”

____

“Well I-”

____

“SHUT THE HELL UP!!! Just-just get out already,” Engie said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

____

“But laborer, he could be-”

____

“I _said_ **GET OUT!!!** ”

____

That did the trick. Almost as if they were running from the flames of a pyro, Spy darted out of the room. Finally, Bandit was practically suffocating with them around. Engie followed them to the door, slammed it, and locked it with a huff.

____

He stomped over to the bed and fell face first into the mattress. A muffled groan escaped his mouth. Not the kind he wanted-

____

Nope! Stop that right now! Stop thinking with your dick!

____

What? You think I like it when I have to deal with _your_ thoughts about the bushman?

____

Bandit felt like his brain was short circuiting. Clearly avoiding conflicting subjects was a lot harder than initially thought. Why must he be like this? He wondered whether these would count as intrusive thoughts. At least _one_ of his halves objected to them whenever he thought of one of their crushes.

____

“Um, Bandit?”

____

Snapped out of his thoughts, he turned to look at Engie. He had removed his face from the mattress and was looking at him with a confused and concerned expression.

____

“Huh? Sorry what?” Bandit asked, assuming Dell had asked him a question.

____

“Are you alright? You seem kind of out of it.” 

____

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Probably Scout’s part of the brain being weird. Nothing new there.”

____

“Well, I’m not so sure about that. Scout doesn’t really space out mid conversation like you do. And when he does it’s not so abrupt, you can tell when he’s getting bored or distracted by something else. You also get this kind of dazed look on your face. I’m not sure how to explain it, but it seems different from the usual look people get when they’re spaced out. And I’m not sure if that’s a bad thing or not.”

____

Spy wasn’t the only one good at analyzing people. Engie may not go flaunting his PhDs around like some other scholars his components have known over the years, but in moments like these he really needed to take a step back and admire the man. Don’t get him wrong though, plenty of his coworkers are skilled in reading people as well, for different reasons.

____

That being said, Bandit shifted a bit. He felt a bit guilty for making Engie worry. Bandit let out an awkward chuckle, “Maybe the Spy part of me didn’t make me as slick as I thought huh?”

____

Engie shifted to a seated position, “Nah, I’ve been around those two too long to not notice these things.” He gave Bandit a smile.

____

Bandit returned it, “It’s really not that serious, mon ami. I was just kind of...talking to myself? No, let me rephrase that: My components were talking to _each other_ , they were in disagreement about something, and that meant I had to do the thinking for them both at the same time.”

____

“Huh, that’s strange. Does that happen all the time?”

____

“No, like, I can still make decisions without having those two on my shoulders trying to talk me in one direction or another. Usually it’s hard to tell which one of them my thoughts are coming from. So, I just think of those thoughts as coming from me. Not Scout or Spy. But when I get to something they disagree on, then I don’t feel like _me_ that much.”

____

“Do you think of yourself as a different person from them?”

____

Bandit rubbed his face, “Well, I might as well be. I _feel_ different from them. But also I _am_ them in some ways? I mean, I think for the most part I’m different from them. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.” He fell backwards onto the bed. “Ugggh!”

____

“Quite the existential conundrum you have there,” Engie said, glancing over his shoulder at Bandit.

____

He groaned again, “I am _so_ sick of this shit. I guess the best answer is that I’m both them _and_ me? But how is that possible? And why do I give a flying fuck about any of this in the first place? I’m a new person but I’m also the same, why can’t that be enough for me?”

____

Engie considered this for a moment, then replied, “I’m no psychologist, but maybe you’re all hung up about this because you don’t know what it means to be yourself yet. You don’t know who Bandit is, because up until now all you’ve ever been is Scout and Spy. They’ve had more time to figure out who they are than you’ve had. So it’s probably hard to let go of the idea that you’re not them, because if you’re not them, then who are you?”

____

That made Bandit sit up, “Are you sure one of those PhDs wasn’t in psychology? Because _holy shit._ ”

____

“Promise,” Dell said, smiling and holding his hands up.

____

“Um, yeah. I suppose you’re right. I guess don’t know who I am, really. And even though Scout and Spy’s personalities influence how I act and feel, I’m still different from them in a lot of ways. I just don’t know _how._ ”

____

“You’ll figure it out, Band.”

____

Engie’s explanation certainly helped, but Bandit wasn’t really sure what to do about this new discovery. It wasn’t a good feeling, not knowing who he was. None of the fusions from Steven Universe had to deal with this, did they? No, they just accepted that they were ‘an experience,’ whatever _that_ means. Why couldn’t Bandit make this a good experience like them? Shouldn’t he be having fun? Sure, he wanted to be excited at the prospect of exploring who he was, but there was _something_ keeping him from doing that. 

____

Maybe he could use a therapy session with Medic. He could probably help Bandit sort out all this bullshit. The doctor knows pretty much everything when it comes to health, both mental and physical. Bandit remembers his halves hearing jokes about how he sold his soul to the devil for that knowledge. At this point it wouldn’t surprise him to learn that was true. Medic has certainly broken the laws of nature before, and continues to do so frequently. It would come as no surprise that some of what he does is more magic than science.

____

There was only one problem with going to see Medic: BLU Spy. Nothing Bandit or the doc say during the session would be confidential. Alain would just be standing in the corner, taking notes on any potential weakness Bandit may have. Killing them would only piss them off, making the problem worse. Engie kicking Alain out only meant that Bandit was temporarily free from their prying eyes. They were probably keeping an ear to the door right now.

____

Thinking of BLU Spy, Engie’s initial look of shock and embarrassment from earlier flooded into Bandit’s head. He spoke up, “Hey Engie?”

____

“Yep?”

____

Bandit folded his hands together, staring at them as they rested on his lap, “I should have said something earlier about Spy following me. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

____

“Ah, it’s fine. ‘Sides, they were the one who decided to come in uninvited,” Engie waved dismissively.

____

“But I should have said something.”

____

Shaking his head, Engie said, “Son, it's fine. It was an honest mistake; you had other things on your mind. I ain’t mad at you, promise.”

____

“Okay...” Bandit replied, still feeling a bit guilty. Why hadn’t he thought about how Spy’s stalking affected the people around him? He was just too focused on how this was affecting him that he couldn’t see how anything anyone just wanted to keep between them and Bandit could be heard and seen by Alain too. But what was he supposed to do to get rid of them?

____

Telling others might make them more aggressive in their investigation. Nothing fuels a search for evidence more than the need to be proven right. Confirmation bias sure is a bitch. BLU Spy probably had heaps of evidence right in front of them that they were ignoring because they don’t believe Bandit’s story. That part really frustrated him. 

____

“God, I just wish he would leave me the fuck alone,” Bandit complained.

____

“Yeah, they are pretty annoying. Never was a huge fan of theirs.”

____

“Me neither.” Bandit said, thinking back to the nudes they had taken of Spy and Wanda, BLU Scout’s mother. He then promptly banished the thought back to his subconscious, because the Scout part of him wasn’t that keen on looking at memories of his father being naked. Unfortunately that only served to remind him of the drawings he put in the bucket in place of everyone's dying wishes. Why past Scout? Why? He cringed internally.

____

Bandit pulled out the sticky note from before and handed it to Engie, “I was going to mess with them and just act all suspicious, but this probably isn’t a really good prank is it?”

____

The note read: _‘Haha, you just dug through the trash for this.’_ Engie gave Bandit an amused smile, “Bit too subtle. Probably be funnier if he wasn’t the only one to see he got duped.”

____

__Subtlety was what Bandit had been going for when he wrote that note. He only wanted to piss Alain off a little, maybe make them a little paranoid that Bandit knew what they were doing. Just as payback for what they had been doing for the past few days. But the opportunity to reveal he knew Spy had been there all along had been so tempting, he decided to vent to Engie instead._ _

____

“Yeah, it seemed funnier when I wrote it down,” Bandit agreed. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to prank them when they’re watching me 24/7 though.”

____

“True, you really can’t set up anything extravagant like that, now can you?” Engie grinned, “But I sure can.”

____

Bandit’s face lit up. 

____

Engie’s smile widened, “If he’s busy following you around all day, then his room’s gonna be empty, right?”

____

Ooooh, he was liking where this was going.

____

“I was thinking something along the lines of completely covering his floor with plastic cups filled to the brim with water. I could leave some behind his door so that when he opens it they’ll all fall down like dominoes.”

____

Existential woes forgotten, Bandit beamed, “Engie you’re a genius! Mon dieu, he’s gonna be _pissed._ ” He laughed. “Definitely put a camera in there too, I wanna see the look on their face when they see it.”

____

Hold on, that gave him an idea. But it could wait until after Engie’s prank. There was no way he was letting a chance for revenge slip by.

____

They parted ways after awhile. The plan would take place tomorrow, roughly after breakfast. That way Engie would have enough time to set everything up by the time Alain got back to their room. Bandit let Dell borrow his watch, so that he wouldn’t be seen doing the deed. Engie snuck in the cups with the other groceries while Bandit kept Spy busy with watching him play Minecraft, about an hour after they agreed on the plan. 

____

All they had to do now was wait.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up super long, so I decided to split it to make editing a bit easier. Thank you to smolMeeM for betaing this for me!!
> 
> Also, my sisters drew bandit for me, go check out my Tumblr and shoot me an ask if you feel up to it!  
>  https://1merfairy.tumblr.com/post/188459719472/my-sisters-drew-bandit-for-me-in-exchange-for


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